Limbo

7.31.2020

September 1st. That’s the answer we give when people ask when we’re leaving for our one-year mission to Granada, Spain. That’s the date we’ve been anticipating for months. It’s been our clear destination, deadline, end, and beginning.

 

Now it’s all foggy.

 

We’ve been diligent and proactive in getting our documents for our visa, starting around May and working from there. We were aware of Covid-19 and the issues it may pose for us, but we trucked on nonetheless, confident that although we saw lives being changed all around us by the pandemic, our plans weren’t going to change. September 1 was set in stone.

 

Now here we are, on the cusp of August, and we don’t have a visa appointment, we don’t have all our documents, and we don’t have any security anymore. A visa takes 2-4 weeks to process, so even if we have an appointment tomorrow, we still may not make our September 1^st goal. The hard truth of the matter is that August is seemingly full, and we may not be able to get a visa appointment at all this month. On top of that, the documents that we were so proactive in getting will expire soon, complicating this situation even more.

 

All these circumstances are what bring us to limbo: the present situation where we really don’t know what’s next. I recently quit my job, anticipating a month or so preparing for Spain, mentally, emotionally, and physically. Micah and I are currently living in the ruins of our apartment, anticipating moving in with my parents for the last month that we were supposed to have before we move to Spain. So here am I: jobless, homeless, and unsure what the future holds.

 

In the end, Covid-19 did hit us. We’ve been dodging it for so many months, pretty much untouched from its worldwide consequences, and now we’re finally in its clutches, just like everyone else on this planet.

 

But that’s exactly it. We’re not alone. We have a whole community of missionaries that are hanging in this dang limbo just like us. My in laws who work for a missionary school in the Philippines are in limbo, unsure of what the school year holds for them. Multiple missionary acquaintances are in the exact same position we’re in: in the US waiting to go overseas. Other missionaries are in their countries, but completely unsure about how to proceed through covid-related issues.

 

We’re all in this together, and that keeps me and Micah from being too self-focused and self pitying. This pandemic brought a unity that everyone can see if they look hard enough.

 

Because everyone is in limbo, whether they see that or not. We’ve always been in limbo. We never know what’s next. We never have the security of knowing whether we’ll have a job, a home, or even a life the next day. That’s precisely what’s so beautiful about that season because it’s uncovering that truth for everyone. It’s exposing this mirage of control we all thought we had.

 

God tiene el control. We are nothing, and our lives are not in our own hands. This is such an easy truth that I’ve “known” my whole life. Why is it so hard then?

 

Like so many other truths that the Bible clearly paints, we forget it hourly. What better time to remind myself hourly than in a pandemic, in limbo?

 

I know that whenever God wants us to be in Spain, that’s when we’ll be there. We already have the funds, the apartment, and the registration of classes. Our lives are ready for us there. We just need to get there, and that is completely dependent not on visa appointment availability, not on the logistics of documents, not on the mission, donors, or the consulate, but completely, 100% on God.

 

This is just the truth that I need to remind myself every minute.

 

 

Edit: The exact same day I wrote this, the consulate posted on their websites that they are now accepting visa applications via mail. This means we don’t need an appointment, and we may still be on track to go to Spain in September! Praise God for his surprising, creative goodness and provision.

Granada

“I think it’s Granada.”

 

I did everything in my power not to show the joy exploding within me. I did everything in my power not to collapse on the sidewalk right there in shock and elation at what Micah had just said.

 

Instead I casually dug further and tried to hear more of Micah’s thoughts. He looked over, and he caught an evident smile on my face.

 

I had been convinced for weeks that it was Granada. I never mentioned this to Micah because I didn’t want to sway him. Micah was having a hard time making this decision, and I didn’t want to admit how confident I was in one of our options. If there was one thing I had learned in this process, it was patience. It was September 2019, and I had first brought up missions to Micah in February.

 

There were many reasons I wanted to leave the country and state to do missions in February, and those reasons and the stirring in my heart convinced me that we had to go as soon as possible. I didn’t realize how much Micah would halt my frenzied pursuit of missions.

 

He was hesitant. So hesitant. As a missionary kid, he had always had a heart for missions, and his goal was to return to the mission field. But that goal was always far off for him, so when I mentioned I wanted to go in a year or less, Micah was hiding his panic.

 

Along the journey, I admittedly got angry at God. When Micah was showing no signs of progress and no desire to move forward towards missions, I cried angry tears and questioned why on earth God would do this to us. Why on earth would God put this on my heart and not on my husband’s? Why on earth would he allow me to study Spanish for years and not allow me to use it? Why on earth would God have so clearly brought me and Micah together if we had different ambitions, paths, and timelines?

 

But God taught me patience, and I waited for Micah. I was putting too much pressure on him, so when we finally got to the point where we were in between two countries, I needed him to figure out where we were going. I couldn’t push him anymore. I couldn’t guide him towards any more decisions. I had to step back and let him lead this time.

 

At the same time, I knew it was Granada. Every day when I prayed and thought about it, I felt like God kept confirming it was Granada. I kept this a secret and instead just prayed and prayed for Micah. I prayed that God would provide revelation after revelation for Micah to know where we were supposed to go.

 

And here we were! We were walking down Como Avenue in Minnesota, and Micah was explaining why he felt it was Granada.

 

“Every time I pray, Granada just keeps coming to my heart,” he said.

 

“How do you feel about that?” I pushed for his honesty.

 

“Good! Excited,” he assured me.

 

My elation was clear. We continued to walk, hand-in-hand, and talk about the pros and opportunities of Granada.

 

For once, even if it was just this night, just this moment, we were on the same page. We agreed that we wanted to go to Granada. It wasn’t even the final, official decision. But it was agreement. And that, I thought to God, was His hands, His will, His doing.